


Loneliness Be Over

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Timeline Character, Alternate Timelines, Angst, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been searching forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loneliness Be Over

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for episode 2.07.

I’ve been searching for a long time.

Sometimes it feels like forever.

Anomaly after anomaly, timeline after timeline, world after world. And I still haven’t found where I belong.

I’ve found timelines where I’m still happily living my life, and timelines where I never existed. Worlds where Nick and Helen are still married, and worlds where they haven’t even met. I’ve seen so many variations that they’re all starting to blur together, and I’ve lost track of how many I’ve visited.

But I’m certain I’ll know when I find the _right_ one. When I find my own timeline, my own world. I’ll know. I’ll _feel_ it.

This _isn’t_ the right one. In this one I’m dead, not vanished. This isn’t the right place for me. And yet something about it entices me, draws me in. I know I should leave, move on, but I can’t quite seem to. So I stay, watching and listening, an observer in the shadows.

It’s Nick, I suppose. No, it’s more than suppose. I can’t deny it. I stay because of Nick. I watch Nick.

The man wears his grief like a shroud. It hangs about him like a dark cloud, depressing and grey. It hasn’t been that long since he lost his best friend, and his pain is still visible and so, so raw.

It hurts to see it. It hurts so much that I want to do something. Want to offer some light to cut through the darkness.

Which is probably why I find myself standing at Nick’s front door, even though I know this is possibly the stupidest thing I could do. How will this help? How will this lessen Nick’s pain?

But it’s Nick. When it comes to him, _not_ offering comfort is unthinkable.

The door opens suddenly. When did I ring the doorbell? And then Nick is there.

I don’t think I’ve ever really seen someone’s face drain of colour until that moment. Never really appreciated what it might look like. Nick is already pale, but now he is white. White as a ghost. Which is ironic, given who’s standing on his doorstep.

No words are spoken until we’re in the living room, and Nick is watching me like he can’t quite believe his eyes. Like I might vanish at any moment.

“Where did you come from?” he asks finally, hoarsely.

“Somewhere else,” I answer honestly. “I’m trying to find my way home.”

“You’re lost?”

“I was taken.”

“Helen.” Not a question.

“Helen,” I agree.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” I’ve never known.

“But you left her.”

“I got away from her,” I correct him. “Unfortunately, I neglected to get directions first.”

“And now you’re trying to find your own timeline?”

“Yes.”

“How many are there?”

I smile. Even in this moment, Nick is still so curious. “More than you can count,” I reply. My smile dies. “Too many,” I add quietly.

“You’re dead here,” Nick says suddenly, bluntly.

“I know.”

“I miss you.”

“I know that, too.”

“What’s your timeline like?”

“Much the same as this one. Anomalies. The ARC. Connor, Abby, Jenny, Lester. You.” I know my voice has turned wistful, and I hope he doesn’t notice.

Nick stands suddenly, starts pacing as if he can’t bear to be still. “I miss you,” he says again. “You have no idea how much.”

“Oh, I think I do,” I reply, almost to myself. He doesn’t seem to hear me.

“There are so many things I never said. So many things I never did. I never told him I was sorry. Never told him I forgave him. Never told him…”

This is starting to sound like a confession, and I can’t bear to hear it. Can’t bear the feelings that are welling up inside me as he speaks. I stand too, blocking his pacing, trying physically to stop his ramblings.

And he does stop. Scant inches away. Looking at me with that expression of clueless surprise that is so familiar to me. He’s not so different, and the thought sends pain lancing through me.

For a second we just look at each other, neither of us sure what the next move is. Then Nick makes the decision, and I have only a split second to recognise what he is going to do before he kisses me.

It is clumsy and lasts only for a moment before he jerks away, looking horrified. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I don’t know what…”

I pull him back almost violently. I know this is wrong. I shouldn’t do this, it won’t solve either of our problems. But a switch has been flipped, and I don’t think I could stop myself even if I wanted to.

“You’re not the only one who’s lost something,” I say roughly, before I claim his mouth with mine.

His lips feel the same, he tastes the same, he kisses the same, and it almost undoes me.  _This_ is what I’ve been searching for. Not my life, not my world, but _this_. I’ve missed him so much, and the thought that I might never have this again has haunted me for longer than I can bear to think about.

He melts against me and I catch him willingly, holding him tightly as we kiss again, frantically, desperately.

Then he pushes slightly, and I get the message loud and clear. This house is another thing about this world that’s the same, and I could find my way to his bedroom blindfolded if need be.

And I might as well be. We don’t let go of each other for one second as we stumble from room to room. And even though I am expecting it, it’s still a surprise when the back of my legs hit his bed, and I fall with a surprised exclamation on to the mattress, pulling him down with me.

He looks at me for a second then, his eyes questioning, and I give him a tiny nod, permission to do what we both want.

It’s been so long that when he finally enters me I let loose a breathless cry, and he freezes until I loop my arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him fiercely, not letting go as he moves gently above me, muffling my moan of completion in his neck as I feel his damp face pressed against mine.

*   *   *   *   *

I’m awake first, and as I lie beside him, watching a sliver of light that has penetrated the curtains move slowly across the ceiling, I know that this can’t go on.

It would be so easy to just stop. Stop looking, stop hoping, and take this world for my own.

But I can’t. This isn’t right, for either of us. No matter how much it might feel like it.

I wonder how I’m going to tell him. How I can avoid breaking his world all over again.

But in the end it is easy. He stirs, and then looks at me with clear eyes.

“I can’t stay.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I need to find…”

“…me,” he finishes, and smiles. “Thank you,” he says softly.

There isn’t much more to say after that, and we stand together on the doorstep, looking out at the bright, clear morning, one of us staying, one of us going. Both of us wishing.

Shaking hands seems too formal, too cold, so I hug him instead.

“Thank you,” he murmurs again.

“No, thank you,” I whisper in reply.

Then I turn and walk away.

I don’t look back.


End file.
